


Marigold and Narcissus

by vanillanemo



Series: An Exploration in Kink [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Adult!Toushirou, BDSM, Cock Ring, Established Relationship, Fucking Machines, Human AU, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay, Punishment, dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillanemo/pseuds/vanillanemo
Summary: Kink #70 - Fucking Machines





	Marigold and Narcissus

Tōshirō’s hands were shaking ever so slightly as he walked up the path which split the carefully manicured lawn in two. Whether it was from fear or excitement, he didn’t know. Maybe a bit of both.

He reached up to ring the doorbell, but paused. He took a deep breath to collect himself, then another. It would be alright, he told himself. He’d wanted this, practically asked for it. His finger pressed the small grey button, and he heard the chime echoing throughout the large house, as it always did.

It was less than a minute before the door was opened, and Tōshirō’s heart jumped up into his throat when in did.

(His heart wasn’t the only thing to jump up.)

There he stood, still in his black slacks and white oxford from work. But the pants were unbuttoned, letting them hang lower on his hips then would be permitted in polite circles, and the shirt hung open, revealing his toned chest and just the hint of a dusky nipple.

Tōshirō’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

“Hello there, pet,” he said, drawling accent dragging the words out. “How was class this afternoon?” As he asked, he stepped back, gesturing for Tōshirō to enter.

“It was rather boring, honestly. Microbiology. The professor is so unengaging, I honestly just use the class as a self-study period and learn it all from the textbooks,” he answered, slipping his shoes off and leaving them by the door, before dutifully allowing himself to be led into the kitchen.

“Oh? Is that the _only_ thing you do during this class?” Intense blue eyes pierced Tōshirō, making him feel like, if he stared into them for long enough, they’d see into his very soul. But the moment was brief, over before it truly began.

“Most of the time, yes.” He needed to tread carefully now. He’d set the stage earlier today, now he had to act out the performance.

Those blue eyes fluttered shut and a wicked grin twisted itself into place. “You know, this afternoon, I was in the middle of a very important meeting.”

“Oh?” Tōshirō slips his backpack off his shoulder onto one of the bar stools before leaning onto the counter to look up at the man through his eyelashes. He’s not sure entirely what it is that he does for a living, something with the government. It’s obviously lucrative, to be able to afford this lifestyle. Nothing compared to Tōshirō’s shifts at a local bookstore.

“Yes, with my superior and some other very important people.”

Tōshirō winces ever so slightly. He’s met Aizen Sousuke once, at a gala he’d been dragged along to as a date, and found the man to be powerful and commanding. He hopes that he hadn’t gotten his lover in trouble with Aizen earlier.

Seeming to read Tōshirō’s thoughts, he continues. “I don’t think any of our guests noticed my... flustered state, but Aizen knows me well enough to, and I think Tōsen might have as well, he seemed more disdainful of me than usual when he left. You embarrassed me at work, pet, sending me all those naughty messages.”

Blushing slightly, he sighed (only a _little_ over dramatically). “I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Really, pet?” He turns his body to fully face Tōshirō, resting both hands on the counter which separates them. “You’ve been very misbehaved, pet. How do you think I should handle this, hm?” He reached out, using a hand to pull Tōshirō’s face up to meet his eyes, those piercing blue eyes.

“I think you should punish me, Ichimaru-sama,” he answered, voice demure with just a hint of _need_ coming through.

“I think so too. And you know what? I’ve got just the thing for it. It arrived a couple of days ago. It’s not something you’ve ever tried, but you marked it as green on your limits list. I’d like to be able to use the cameras today, is that alright?”

The cameras are one of Tōshirō’s soft limits, something he needs to give his permission for before each individual scene. “Yes, Ichimaru-sama.”

He nods, a small lock of silvery hair falling in front of his face as he does so. “Alright then. You know what to do. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes Ichimaru-sama,” he answers, before leaving the kitchen, walking the path he’s walked so many times before. Along the hallway, up the stairs, turn left, third door on the right. He opens the unassuming black door, to reveal his sanctuary.

The playroom is done up in tasteful colours, soft creams and gold, a stark contrast to the dark ebony furniture. The padded spanking bench has been relocated from its usual place along the wall, to further out, which suggests they will be using it today, and he quivers in excitement.

Tōshirō strips, neatly folding his clothes and placing them in the first cupboard on his right, from which he also retrieves his collar and cuffs. The soft brown leather buckles neatly around his wrists, ankles and neck, and for the first time in days, he feels at ease. He kneels on the soft rug at the foot of the bed, arms held behind him, gaze fixed on the floor in front of him and just breathes, feeling himself starting to slip into headspace, the tension beginning to ease.

He hears the door open, but does not look up - he’s not been given permission to do so yet. He can see Ichimaru-sama’s bare feet on the rug within his sight, hems of his slacks brushing over the fluffy white fabric.

(His lover joked that it matched his hair. Tōshirō had huffed irritably, but had not been able to dispute the comment.)

“Hands and knees, on the bench, facing east. You may not speak.”

Tōshirō nods his head in agreement, before standing and moving into his assigned position, still keeping his gaze on the floor. He can hear Ichimaru-sama moving in the background, likely uncovering and turning on the camera set up in the corner of the room. He crosses to the other corner, and readies the other, the one Tōshirō can see from his current vantage point. Once both are turned on, the video and audio feeds running through the cables in the roof top to the computer in the adjacent room, Tōshirō finds himself the centre of his Dom’s attention.

The loops in his cuffs are clipped to short chains, and another chain to his collar, essentially immobilising him, and a cool hand runs over his back. He arches into it, but the brief contact is gone moments later. There is the pop of a bottle, and a slick hand suddenly grips his length, already half-hard from the anticipation alone.

It only takes a minute or two of gentle stroking before Tōshirō is completely erect, but just as the tension starts to pool in his abdomen, the hand disappears. A low whine leaves his mouth before he can stop it. A sharp slap lands on his ass, a reminder that he is to be silent, before the hand returns, clasping a tight ring around the base of his cock.

Tōshirō fights very hard to keep quiet. He hates orgasm denial, but he has agreed that it can be used as a punishment, so he just needs to bear it.

The hand is back now, prodding gently at his hole. One finger slips in, beginning to stretch him out.

By the time Ichimaru-sama is up to three fingers, Tōshirō is a wanton mess, panting heavily with every (deliberate, he is sure) push against his prostate. He carefully holds back another whine as the hand is removed, and takes the moment to compose himself slightly as Ichimaru-sama moves away, obviously getting whatever it is that Tōshirō will be punished with.

There is a strange sound, rather like wheels rolling over the floorboards, before it stops. Moments later, something hard and unyielding is being pressed into him. A dildo, most likely. It’s larger than Ichimaru-sama’s fingers were, but not painfully so. It is only in about two inches before it stops, which throws him off a little.

“Pet? What are your safe words?” His Dom prompts.

“Marigold and Narcissus, Ichimaru-sama.”

“Very good.” Tōshirō hears a flick, like a switch, and the dildo starts to move, pressing in to him slowly, stretching him out.

“I’d like to see what you think of my new fucking machine, pet. It’s a real state of the art thing, cost a pretty penny. Has an app for smartphone controls and everything! I’m going to leave you here to get acquainted with it, alright? Don’t worry about how slow it is, it’ll get faster soon.”

The dildo starts to pull out as he continues. “You can be as loud as you like now pet, after all, it’s not like anyone will be around to hear you. Have fun now!”

He leaves, pulling closed the door into the adjacent computer room. As it shuts with a defined ‘click’, Tōshirō gasps.

A fucking machine. An actual, literal fucking machine. They’d talked about it of course, when they entered the relationship and Tōshirō was completing his limits pages. Ichimaru-sama had used them before, but he’d never owned one, and he’d not mentioned that he was getting one.

The dildo was pressing back into him, slowly making its way to his prostate and pressing against it, hard, before retreating, and Tōshirō knew that he was in for it.

It sped up, as promised, and within minutes of Ichimaru-sama leaving, it was pounding into him, hard and fast, and he was crying out with every thrust which hammered that sweet spot deep inside him.

The tension was building, he could feel it in his gut, but that damned ring would stop him from coming, no matter how much he wanted to. Irregardless, he was hovering on the edge of an orgasm, when suddenly the machine slowed.

He let out a disappointed whine, especially when it became apparent that the machine was also making shallower thrusts, stopping just short of hitting where he wanted it to. He tried to rock back towards it, to get it deeper, but the chain attached to his collar pulled taut, and he could move no further without choking himself.

He was caught off guard when the machine made a deep thrust, pressing against his spot, and he moaned loudly, ecstatic at having gotten what he wanted, but the machine went right back to the shallow thrusts again.

It continued on like that for quite some time, making the occasional deeper move at seemingly random times - _probably not random_ , the rational part of his brain whispered, near drowned out by the pleasure, _probably at Ichimaru-sama’s whim_.

Tōshirō looked up at the camera, single red light shining unwaveringly, and he wondered how he must look to Ichimaru-sama, through the feed. He knows that he’ll never truly be alone during a scene, that his Dom is watching and listening and will be right back in the moment Tōshirō utters a safe word, but he _feels_ so very alone and abandoned, just left behind with a torturous device pressing him in _all the right places_ , but _not often enough, please_ -

It speeds up again, hitting deeply like before, and Tōshirō is lost to the world, a moaning, whimpering mess, quivering and shaking, erection pulsing and he can _feel_ that damn ring, why can’t it just _go away_ so he can come, _god_ he needs to come so very badly.

His punishment continues, and he loses track of time. How long has it been? It feels like forever. The machine changes speeds and depths often, and randomly.

He wonders how Ichimaru-sama must look, sitting in front of the computer. He imagines the pants unzipped, erection freed, those long fingers wrapped around it, stroking it softly as he watches Tōshirō being fucked by his latest toy. He can practically see the precome dripping from the head, hear those soft pants his lover always makes.

It seems to drag on, and eventually the thrusts become more painful than pleasurable. He’s tired, thoroughly worn out, and his voice is hoarse as he croaks out, “Marigold.”

The machine stops instantly, and it’s barely a second later that the door opens. Ichimaru-sama has removed his pants, but his shirt remains, fluttering around him as he strides towards Tōshirō.

There’s warm hands all over his body, and soft murmurs fill the room. “You’ve done so well, pet,” they say. “I’m so proud of you, you took your punishment so very well.”

Chains are unclipped and the dildo carefully removed. Tōshirō whines slightly at the loss, but then there’s a hand on his face, forcing him to look up.

“Would you like to come, pet?”

“Please, Ichimaru-sama.”

He smiles, not his usual twisted grin, but a real smile, soft and gentle as he sits on the bench, gently pulling Tōshirō into his arms. Slumped against a firm chest, Tōshirō watches through lidded eyes as a hand works free the ring, and it only takes a few strokes before he’s arching and crying out, his orgasm so much stronger for the long build-up.

Things are a bit hazy after that for a while. Tōshirō can vaguely remember a damp washcloth, cool water and strong arms, holding him as he comes down from his high.

When he manages to focus himself again, he finds himself on the bed, held in his lover’s arms, a hand gently running through his hair, the room filled with the sound of whispered sweet nothings. He shifts slightly, looking up, and is met with that smile again, the real one that few people ever see.

“Hello pet. Back with the world again?”

He hums. Ichimaru-sama chuckles, reaching a hand out to the dresser, and picking up a small chocolate from the bowl there. Tōshirō opens his mouth obediently, and lets the sweet treat slowly melt in his mouth.

It’s about a minute after the chocolate is gone, that Tōshirō breaks the comfortable silence. “I’m sorry for teasing you while you were at work, Ichimaru-sama.”

“You are forgiven. Did you like the fucking machine?”

“Yeah, it was alright. I don’t know that I’d want to keep it as a punishment, though.”

“Green list, then?”

“Yes please. And I think... I think I’d like to suck you off while being fucked by it.”

Ichimaru-sama groans. “God, pet, you will be the death of me one day. Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you looked? That, plus your incredible mouth, and I don’t know that I’d be able to hold myself back for very long.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Tōshirō replies, smirking slightly.

Silence falls once more, Ichimaru-sama still gently stroking his hair. But this time, it’s the Dom to break it.

“I love you so very much, Tōshirō. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know. And I love you too, Gin.”


End file.
